Falling asleep is the most intense thing two people can do together. Laying down in a bed, arms wrapped around each other and under the blankets, you are getting ready to be the most vulnerable you are all day. Maybe this is just for me, but whenever I fall asleep with my boyfriend, I have to synchronize my breathing with his, if I don’t, I can’t breath. It’s also the most selfless thing two people can do. Afraid to wake the other one up or that the other is uncomfortable, you’re always afraid to move. So you stay put, you try to remember to breath, and trust that the other will protect you in your sleep. It means that you’re ready to wake up and still be wrapped in their arms. I just think it’s so intimate. It’s the greatest.
“Everyone, at some point in their lives, wakes up in the middle of the night with the feeling that they are all alone in the world, and that nobody loves them now and that nobody will ever love them, and that they will never have a decent night’s sleep again and will spend their lives wandering blearily around a loveless landscape, hoping desperately that their circumstances will improve, but suspecting in their heart of hearts that they will remain unloved forever. The best thing to do in these circumstances is to wake someone else up, so that they can feel this way, too.”—Lemony Snicket
A Portuguese word for a feeling of nostalgic longing for something or someone that one was fond of and which is lost. It often carries a fatalist tone and a repressed knowledge that the object of longing might really never return.